


We Met in the Winter

by TorchWhoLockian_Potterhead



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Very fluffy, Winter Mystrade Exchange, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-06 23:29:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3152312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TorchWhoLockian_Potterhead/pseuds/TorchWhoLockian_Potterhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg Lestrade goes to a New Year's Eve party at 221B and is shocked to find out the one and only consulting detective has a brother! They begin a monthly liaison to keep Sherlock as out of trouble as Sherlock can be...</p><p>A fic following the development of their friendship into something more, month by month, over the first year of their association.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. December/January

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saziikins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saziikins/gifts).



> This fic is written for Saziikins for the Winter Mystrade Exchange. Please read anything they write, it's all brilliant!

_You still on for bringing the beer to the party tonight? - JW_

_Sure. Got my favourite ready in the fridge. See you there. -GL_

 

Those texts had been sent that morning. Now, DI Lestrade was on his way to 221B Baker Street for John's New Year's Eve party (well, strictly speaking, it was John and Sherlock's but the idiot would probably rather have been alone with his experiments than at a party with real people).

Greg parked his car around the corner from the flat and made his way to the door with it's golden, shining numbers. A sleek, expensive-looking car pulled up just inches from where Lestrade was standing, its colour darker than the sky, even this winter night. Stepping from the car elegantly -after having the door opened by a chauffeur - was a man who approached the door (and the DI) whilst swinging an umbrella. Said umbrella seemed almost like a natural extension of the man's arm, "Ah, you must be Lestrade." he nodded to Greg, voice smooth with an aristocratic air that screamed money and breeding, "Pleasure, I'm sure. Mycroft Holmes." he offered a hand to shake.

Greg, however, simply gaped. He was too dumbfounded to take it, "You're related to Sherlock." he murmured.

"I am indeed, he is my brother. I'm seven years older." Mycroft replied after a long pause, making to retract the offer of a handshake.

The DI quickly reached for Mycroft's hand, "Sorry. Bit confused, didn't think Sherlock did family." he shook Holmes' hand firmly, "Surprised me."

Mycroft hummed a wry chuckle, "Well, I can see why my brother gives that impression. He isn't exactly the easiest to get along with."

Greg nodded and smiled at Mycroft, having to look up a little at the taller man, and mulled this new information over. Sherlock had a big brother. Tall, intimidating, posh big brother with an attitude that made you feel obligated to bow upon entering his presence. Wow...

The door was opened by a cheery Mrs Hudson, who showed the pair upstairs and then bustled about the kitchen like the housekeeper she insisted she wasn't. Greg made a beeline for the fridge and managed to find somewhere uninhabited by body parts to leave his beer.

"Hey, Greg!" John called, smiling brightly and sporting a terrifying Christmas jumper, "Oh, hi, Mycroft." he nodded in greeting, "Your brother's just sulking in his room, he should be out in a sec."

"I am capable of managing without Sherlock for the time being." Mycroft replied with a reserved smile, "I would much rather be in the company of one like Lestrade, anyway."

Greg raised his eyebrows almost into his hairline, surprised at Mycroft's words but also glad if an escape from Sherlock, who would doubtlessly deduce the state of his love life - or lack of it. There wasn't much joy to be had when being reminded of his divorce...again, "Yeah, I think I'd probably prefer this Holmes brother to the other, I'd I'm honest." he laughed a little and dropped onto the sofa.

Mycroft followed with slightly more grace, "My dear baby brother is hardly one for tact."

For some reason, Mycroft being older (closer to Greg's age) was something Greg liked, "You're right there. So...are you cleverer than him?" asked Greg with a smirk; he was going to toy with the older Holmes tonight and it was going to be fun...

"I am definitely the clever one." Mycroft told Greg proudly.

Greg raised one eyebrow, "Prove it."

Mycroft seemed interested and quickly rose to the challenge. He managed to deduce parts of Greg's life that Sherlock hadn't even figured out in the years they'd known each other and that was saying something.

This man was interesting.

When midnight ticked around, it brought the chinking of glasses between the DI and his newest associate.

 

 


	2. February

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More specifically, 14th February...

Mycroft did so loathe his brother sometimes; Sherlock had taken a hallucinogen purely to solve a case by recreating the victim's state of mind. That would not have been too difficult if it wasn't for the fact that the child had managed to overdose. Thankfully, John had phoned Lestrade upon noting the suspicious length of Sherlock's absence. DI Lestrade, the man who was currently sat beside Mycroft in the hospital waiting room closest to Sherlock's current location. John was with the brat now, awaiting his waking from a coma and the fact Sherlock almost certainly would recover fully was some solace at least, as it meant Mycroft didn't need to tell Mummy and Father about the incident.

"Such an idiot." Lestrade murmured to nobody in particular.

Mycroft hummed, "Definitely. Thankfully Sherlock did not assume his tolerance of cocaine would transfer to this drug. The overdose was only slight."

Greg nodded and sighed heavily, "And why did he have to choose today of all days as well?"

What? "What is today?" What did today have to do with anything?

"14th February, isn't it?" Greg turned his head to face Mycroft, "Valentine's day and I'm stuck here, sad and single, in a hospital waiting room with my colleague's big brother."

There was a pause in which Mycroft considered his reply, "Why... Why is that significant to you compared to any other day? I could understand if you had - or were pursuing - a significant other, but it's clear you aren't."

"I dunno..." Greg frowned, "It's just...this is the time of year when you really feel it. You see so many people who _aren't_ alone that it makes you feel everything more."

Mycroft nodded slowly, "I think I understand. I've never considered that before. My occupation allows little time for such frivolity as that."

"Romance isn't frivolous," Greg countered, "not really. If you find the right person, it would be selfish _not_ to do anything about it. What if that could have been the best thing to happen to both of you? Denying yourself would also deny them."

Mycroft raised one eyebrow in slight surprise, never having thought of it in that context before, "That...is an interesting viewpoint. I shall bear that in mind." he risked a small smile and returned to silence as they awaited any news from Sherlock's Doctor Watson.

 

 


	3. May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a timeskip, this is a few months on from the last chapter but they have been meeting regularly between these chapters. This is also a very short chapter, you'll see why...

"No! You can't just waltz in here with your expensive suit and that stupid umbrella and nick a case from me like I'm nothing to you!" Greg yelled. He didn't know which was more irritating - Mycroft taking more offense at the insult to his brollie than the matter at hand or the fact that he seemed to feel entitled to interfere in Greg's life, "Don't you dare tell me it's a requirement of your occupation or some crap like that. You could have called me at least! Even just texted on the way here."

Mycroft was stood stoically, taking the insults in silence until Greg paused. He then took a seat opposite Greg's desk, "Obviously you do not understand the nature of-"

"No. No, don't do that." Greg glared, voice dangerously level, "I thought - well, I hoped - you were better than that. How long have we known each other for? 4 months now? You of all people can see I'm not half as ignorant as that. You have time to call me, you even have time to go to dinner with me and talk about Sherlock once a week so don't bloody tell me you don't have enough time!" he watched Mycroft with cold, challenging eyes as he waited for an apology he knew he'd never hear.

Mycroft gathered up the files, never once breaking eye contact, then spoke with slow and careful precision, "My work affects the security and safety of Great Britain, the lives of her people. I have to decide on a daily basis who is most worthy of saving and who is necessary to Britain. We meet for dinner to discuss my brother and safeguard him because he is valuable to Great Britain and to me."

"What, and I'm not?"

Mycroft's silence answered for him and Greg gritted his teeth, "Just get out." Lestrade's icy voice trembled with repressed anger, "Go. I can't deal with this right now."

Mycroft left.

There were no more meetings or dinners out for over a month.

 

 


	4. June

Mycroft was grateful of his umbrella fixation when it came to days like this one - when what was supposed to be the beginning of summer had dissolved into torrential rain. It gave him the chance to utilise his trusty brollly as he set out for a stroll towards his less public office. The steady sussurus of droplets clashing with the fabric above his head was almost calming and calm was decidedly a necessity for the the elder Holmes as of late, since he'd upset Gregory and that had unsettled him.

They had completely and successfully avoided each other since the argument and Mycroft had found his thoughts more than once straying in the direction of a certain Detective Inspector. It was disconcerting to say the least; Mycroft hardly ever apologised for anything. His actions were always well thought-out and meticulously planned. The problem was that something about Lestrade seemed to break down Mycroft's sense of restraint. The man rumoured to be the British Government felt the need to be humble and to admit his wrongdoing. Mycroft and humility had rarely seen eye to eye until that day.

"Stupid rain!" a very familiar voice was yelling from across the street, "I bloody hate rain so much!" Lestrade. It was Gregory currently pelting towards Mycroft and shielding his head haphazardly.

Mycroft couldn't have resisted offering a place under his umbrella if he wanted to. His body seemed to be working of its own accord, "Here. We can share."

Greg accepted before he'd actually registered who he was now huddling so close to, "Oh...Hi, Mycroft." he eyed the man awkwardly, "Thanks for, erm, for this." he gestured vaguely upwards towards the umbrella.

"Not at all." Mycroft mumbled out of habit.

"So...it's you."

Mycroft nodded, "I am quite afraid that it is. I...have been meaning to speak to you." he hesitated. Why had he hesitated? Mycroft never hesitated! At Greg raising his eyebrows questioningly, Mycroft worked himself up to continuing, "It was wrong of me to imply that you are insignificant to both Great Britain and me and I apologise."

Greg seemed to gasp, then deflate, then lose the majority of the tension in his body, "That's...I...I forgive you. Thank you." he smiled a little.

"I could have - and should have - warned you before lifting the case from you." the elder Holmes confessed, "I will do so in future. Also...you are important to me." his voice was lower, barely audible but utterly sincere as he admitted to emotions he would usually strive to conceal the existence of from anybody. Including himself.

Somehow, only in that moment did Mycroft notice just how close Greg's face was to his own. There were mere inches between Mycroft and the droplets of water leisurely making their way down the DI's skin from his damp, silver locks. Something resembling fear was niggling in the pit of Mycroft's stomach but he couldn't quite work out why. It was something in the way Greg was looking at him and Mycroft wished he could understand it.

Then Greg shook himself out of the eye of their storm and coughed fumblingly, "Yeah, well - erm - thanks. You're... You're important to me too and apparently a good friend to have when it rains." he laughed, though it appeared forced somehow.

Nevertheless, Mycroft chuckled as well, "If no other time, then definitely when it rains." he quipped, a little stunned that Lestrade considered Mycroft s friend at all, let alone when they'd only just solved a month-long disagreement. It was a privilege to be the friend of such a man, "So whilst I am to be considered a good friend, where am I walking you to? The Yard was your original destination, I presume."

Greg nodded and smiled more easily, "If you wouldn't mind, I mean, it's jot that far so I could just leg it if you want. I'd rather walk with you though..." he left the words there before hastily adding, "Plus, you have the umbrella, of course." as an afterthought. It was as though Greg's main concern was that of desiring Mycroft's company rather than his asset to coping with the British weather.

"Yes, quite." Mycroft smiled hesitantly yet openly as he set off with the DI towards NSL.

That evening, as they ate together in a restaurant chosen by Mycroft and discussed both Sherlock's actions and themselves, their argument was long forgotten.

 


	5. October

Mycroft's birthday. It was Mycroft's birthday and his PA - whose real name wasn't Anthea but Greg knew that was as close as he would ever come - had informed Lestrade via email only that morning, which gave the man exactly two hours in which is to make his way to the city centre to buy something and then be ready to meet Mycroft for lunch as they had arranged.

But what to buy for the man who could probably afford a country for himself if he so desired? What could Greg give to Mycroft that Mycroft would actually want? There were Halloween costumes, sweets, house decorations but nothing remotely Mycroft!

Then there was.

An adorable, little ring-bound notebook with tiny umbrellas in black gloss against the matte, steely blue of the cover. It wasn't much but it was as close to Mycroft-ish as Greg would ever be able to find. After purchasing the present, Greg hurried off home to change again and wrap the gift.

For some bizarre reason, as of late, Greg couldn't seem to decide on things quickly when it came to Mycroft; every time they met up, he'd spend tenfold the usual duration trying to decided which clothes were even remotely adequate for Mycroft. Each time he had to organise the occasion, he'd be second-guessing the venue, the timing, the nature of their meeting! It was ridiculous and slightly disconcerting. He hadn't felt this way since his adolescence where your hormones made you weep if anything on a first date went awry.

Whatever was the matter with Greg, it stretched into this day even more than it had before and gave him panic in the pit of his stomach as he fretted over each and every detail. The wrapping paper became questionable when Greg felt like this! Around an hour later, Lestrade received the rest warning him that Mycroft's car was departing to Greg's home.

 

_I'll be ready, just text again when you're here. -GL_

Almost exactly when estimated, the reply came.

 

_We are outside. -MH_

Greg ran out of the house into Mycroft's car, "Hey, Myc. How are you?" he feigned ignorance of what that day meant for Mycroft.

"Perfectly well, and you?" Mycroft replied with the same words as always.

"Good, yeah." Greg smirked a little, "So...feeling any different today? Older, maybe?" he couldn't help but grin a little at Mycroft's exasperated sigh.

"I take it this is why Anthea has been looking at me oddly all day." Mycroft guessed.

Nodding, Greg reached into his coat to retrieve the present he'd bought for the man, "Trouble is, she only emailed me this morning so I haven't had long to choose...I hope you like it." he was suddenly struck by nerves at the possibility if Mycroft not liking it.

There was little time to back out, though, when Mycroft was already midway through the most meticulously neat - and possibly most pretentious-looking - unwrapping of a present that Lestrade had ever seen. All Lestrade could do was watch the man's face intently in case of displeasure. Instead, he was met with a chuckle of delight, "Gregory, you shouldn't have." Mycroft murmured from behind the cutest smile in the history of facial expressions, "This is amusing, Gregory. I commend you on your choice of gift."

No other words could have made Greg's stomach flip in quite the same way. Well, none from anyone but the man in the car with him.

 


	6. November

Obviously, Mycroft had been aware of Lestrade's date of birth long before they'd ever met in person; files with such information on could easily be acquired by one such as Mycroft. That should have given Mycroft time to get used to the idea of the day, to plan for it and therefore be less anxious about it however such was not the case.

By the time the date rolled around, Mycroft had booked a dinner reservation in his favourite restaurant and bought Gregory only a small present as a token of good wishes for the year ahead. All of this was without Greg's knowledge until that afternoon.

A note may have found its way to a certain DI's desk in Scotland Yard, instructing him to be ready for dinner by the allotted time and informing Gregory on suggested formality for his attire. There was no more text than that, not even a signature at the bottom, as a vague attempt to add an air of mystery.

That was the reason for Mycroft to be sat fiddling so anxiously with the handle of his umbrella when the chauffeur rang Lestrade's doorbell. Greg hopped into the car beside Mycroft and laughed softly, "I knew it was you. It had to be."

"Indeed. I would struggle to think of someone else who would be able to go to such trouble, even if they so desired." Mycroft smiled warmly.

"Saying you like me more than anyone else does?" Greg asked with a wink before gasping at the sight of the navy blue wrapping paper of the gift Mycroft was offering to him, "Mycroft, you didn't have to! Thank you!" he smiled brightly and took to opening his present. It turned into an all-out grin when he recognised what he'd been given, "You are amazing, you know that?"

Blushing and glowing with pride, Mycroft shook his head, "I am nothing of the sort!" he'd merely heard Greg commenting recently on how he was running out of aftershave and promptly purchased one he knew would suit the man. Hardly worth merit, was it?

Greg thwacked Mycroft on the shoulder, still beaming, "Yes you are! I know this brand as well, it's expensive as they go and it's one of my favourites! I love it!" he wound an arm around Mycroft in a pseudo-hug, "Thank you."

Mycroft didn't know what to say; he actually felt _flustered_ at this! What was happening to him? "You...are most welcome. This was hardly the main event of the night, we are on our way to my favourite restaurant now. I only hope we can further improve your mood."

Greg's jaw literally dropped, "No! No, stop being too nice to me! I knew we were going for a meal but your favourite place is going to be somewhere expensive and posh and brilliant!"

Mycroft chuckled and smirked, "Maybe, yes. Well, you can judge for yourself, we're here."

Greg beamed at the sight and left the present on the seat before exiting the car along with Mycroft. Without warning, Greg was hugging Mycroft on the pavement outside the restaurant, "Thank you. This is a perfect birthday."

Awkwardly Mycroft wound his arms around the man in return, overjoyed to have made Greg happy and blushing a little under the compliments.

After an exemplary meal and conversation, the pair found themselves winding up the evening at Greg's door, where Mycroft held a hand out for Greg, "This has been a marvellous evening, thank you for accompanying me, Gregory."

Greg took Mycroft's hand and shook it, frowning a little, "Don't you thank me, you're the one who took me out for dinner! That is not on, _I'm_ thanking _you_!" he yanked Mycroft into another tight hug, "Tonight was perfect, thank you so much, Myc!" he drew away to look into Mycroft's eyes, beaming.

Mycroft bit his lip and smiled warmly, "I'm really glad you thought so, that makes this more than worth the effort." he watched Greg for a moment and felt something change in the air between them the longer he did so. The weight of Greg's arms was still securing Mycroft and sending shockwaves of heat through his entire body. How could he stand it? The electricity, the need to be closer, ever closer. He was leaning, so was Greg until suddenly he wasn't. Greg smiled again and turned into his home, disappearing and leaving emptiness in his wake.

Something had changed and then been lost and Mycroft didn't like that one bit...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who's read Human Remains by Saziikins, yes I did try to keep the birthdays the same :) For anyone who hasn't, go read it!


	7. December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas party at 221B but that isn't all to happen on this evening...

Back to Baker street again for Christmas this year and Greg was on alcohol duty again. He was more than glad to see that Mycroft's name (much to Sherlock's protest and dismay) was on the guest list because that meant Greg could spend time with the one person who seemed to understand him all the time without being irritating in his superiority.

They didn't meet at the door to 221B as they had the first time but at the door to Greg's house, from which the DI emerged in the least awful Christmas jumper he could find. They quickly settled into the car and were sharing drinks with Sherlock's circle of friends/acquaintances/arch enemies before they knew it. Well, to be fair, only one guest was considered Sherlock's arch enemy and that was his besuited brother. Not that anybody else - Sherlock or otherwise - really had reason to speak to Mycroft all that much since the elder Holmes was engaged in avid conversation with Lestrade for most of the evening.

They chatted and joked and debated, agreed and disagreed and laughed for who knew how long and it was well into the night before the men dragged themselves from their own bubble and bade John and Sherlock farewell. They left in Mycroft's car but Greg realised part way through the drive that they were going away from his house and towards Mycroft's, "Myc, how come we're going to yours?"

"Oh, I...I had hoped you may agree to a drink there to continue the evening. I may have forgotten to ask. I ought to have done." Mycroft averted his gaze slightly in shame but Greg was having none of that!

Gently, Lestrade rested his hand on Mycroft's upper arm, "I'd love to go. That would be great. Probably do ask before you kidnap me next time, though." he joked with a kind smile.

Relieved, Mycroft nodded and chuckled softly, "I will endeavour to make sure of it."

Greg awaited their arrival, glad to have set Mycroft at ease.  After a few minutes, he realised he was still holding Mycroft's arm. Even fh the gloves he was wearing, Lestrade felt warmth radiating from the man and it shocked him that he didn't at all want to let go and that he was subconsciously rubbing his thumb up and down in a gentle, affectionate manner.

The way Greg felt with Mycroft around was similar to how he used to be with his ex wife in their early days, when he'd thought he was in love and that they were forever. Obviously it didn't turn out that way...

The revelation was a shock to Lestrade but he thankfully maintained a relatively neutral expression even as his grip may have tightened a little on Mycroft's arm. Still, Mycroft wasn't exactly recoiling from the touch...if anything, he was leaning into it.

When the car rolled to a stop, they parted to make their way up Mycroft's drive and into Mycroft's living room. Brandy in hand, Greg took a seat beside Mycroft on the sofa, "This is a good drink, thanks for letting me share it." he murmured.

Mycroft hummed his concurrence, "My pleasure, Gregory. I'm glad you approve of my taste in brandy." he smiled warmly and seemed to shuffle closer to Greg.

By this point both men were suitably tipsy so the implications of how much they both enjoyed the proximity were lost on them. All Greg could process was that he liked being with Mycroft and didn't want it to end until it absolutely had to, "I approve of your taste in everything...even if I don't understand why that includes you talking to me like this."

No. Greg shouldn't have said that. Why shouldn't Greg have said that?

"Nor do I understand why you're includes me." Mycroft quirked an eyebrow, further raising it when Greg shuffled nearer too, "I am more than grateful of it, though."

"So am I." Lestrade smiled brightly, drained his glass and set it on the coffee table, "I'd be a complete loner if it wasn't for you, Myc."

"You are far from that, Gregory. I of all people ought to know what they look like."

"Yeah, but you have Anthea. All I have is John and your brother and they're more interested in each other than me. Funnily enough, I'd be a lot happier with you than either of them. I mean, as much as I love them, they aren't you."

"So...I am different?" asked the elder Holmes confusedly.

Greg nodded, "You're better, I want to be with you more all the time and be closer to you and let's face it, you're gorgeous." he smirked, too detached from the world to understand he'd just said way too much, "And we keep having our little almosts. You getting closer to me and you're almost kissing me but you don't."

"I...I do? No, I do. Why do we stop?"

"Because we shouldn't do that. I want to but something tells me I shouldn't kiss you. After the last time I kissed someone. We got married then divorced and that can't happen again."

"You were hardly compatible with her. I can promise you we wouldn't do that." Mycroft was sincere, Greg wanted to believe him, wanted to kiss him too. But he couldn't, not like that. They were drunk and he knew it wouldn't be right.

"No, we wouldn't do that, would we? I think we could work but not now. Give me one more almost." Greg smiled and took Mycroft's hand, "Maybe another day, yeah?"

Mycroft nodded, "As you wish...but you should know I feel the same way about you as you do me."


	8. January

Since that Christmas Eve of slightly shocking revelations, the pair had yet to speak face to face. Mycroft could remember every detail, down to the glee of realising that Greg had been wearing the aftershave Mycroft had bought him a month previously. The main issue was that Mycroft could not be sure if the DI was as aware of what had happened as he was. Prior to the incident, they'd arranged a walk for New Year's Day and this was the day they would have to face each other. The plan was for a morning walk, chatting in the newly-fallen snow, then back to one of their houses for lunch.

Was Mycroft supposed to mention the previous week's events or not? What was the etiquette for drunken admissions? Whilst Mycroft was pondering this, there came the familiar ringing of the doorbell and suddenly Mycroft was jogging to greet the DI and wrap up for the walk.

"Hey, Myc, how are you?" Lestrade grinned from behind rosy cheeks and nose, "Ready for that walk?"

Mycroft nodded and stepped out, "I am well, thank you Gregory. I trust you are as well." he opened his umbrella over them before locking them out of the house.

"Yep." Greg led them towards a park they both frequented together and they were soon alone and secluded in the shade from barren, lightning-bolt branches as they treaded on the muffled, creaking snow.

If ever there was a safe moment to bring up sensitive issues, it was this one, and with that in mind, it was impossible for Mycroft to halt his next words, "Did you recover from Christmas Eve? I have little doubt you must have been at least partially hung-over."

Wincing at the memory, Greg carefully replied, "I was, yeah. We...We said a lot of stuff that night, didn't we? Not sure how much of what I remember was even real, how much of what we said was true and how much was both of us being pissed."

How to respond... "I suppose we can judge reality on whether we can both remember or not. As for truth, that can be ascertained only if we agree to honesty and sincerity now." could Mycroft have sounded any more pretentious? He was ruining everything by being his usual self again!

"That makes sense." Greg smiled, hesitating a little, "Okay, so I definitely remember your brandy was perfect. Knowing you, I'm pretty sure that did happen."

Mycroft nodded with a wry smile, "Such were your sentiments, yes. What do you remember next?" he asked with more than a little trepidation.

Greg bit his lip, "I think I told you I'd be alone without you and that I prefer you to Sherlock and John." he spoke quietly yet resolutely, even as he blushed far beyond anything that could be attributed to the cold, "I said you were different. I told you how I feel about you and I said..."

"That I was gorgeous." Mycroft finished. He couldn't work out what Greg was thinking by his expression but he hoped it was something good.  Probably that that had only been the alcohol talking and now he needed to find a way to let Mycroft down gently.

Greg only nodded.

"And then..." Mycroft couldn't be sure Greg wouldn't hate him for bringing this up, "Then you talked about how many near misses we've had."

"I told you to give me one more." Greg bit his lip, "I think we had it. Now we need to work out what to do to stop it happening again." he averted his gaze.

Mycroft hummed thoughtfully, "But beforehand, we should know what of what we said was true. Then we know what each of us would choose as an alternative to it happening again." or in layman's terms, Mycroft needed to know if Greg really felt the way he'd said he did.

"Okay...I should just say it. Everything I told you that night that I remember telling you was the truth."

Mycroft's jaw dropped.

Eyes widening, Greg shook his head rapidly and held up his hands, "No, no, it's okay. It doesn't change anything. I know you don't like sentiment and it freaks you out a bit sometimes...okay, a lot, but I promise you I can carry on the way I was before. I'll manage."

Mycroft captured Greg's hands in his own, "Hush, please." he tried not to frighten the man by grinning as much as he felt the need to in his elation, "I was as honest as you were and I feel the same for you as you do me."

There was a short gasp before Greg was leaning closer, their hands dropping to clasp in line with hips rather than shoulders. This was the same as every other moment before, except it wasn't. This was brand new. This wasn't a near miss, this was real and about to happen any second and -

Greg's lips were brushing against Mycroft's and it was so soft, so tender. They were kissing in the cold in a park, silent other than the soft sounds of snow falling onto the umbrella and it was beautiful.

 


	9. Still January

Kissing. Mycroft and Greg were kissing. Greg had actually found the guts to kiss Mycroft bloody Holmes, British Government and the universe's all-round superior.

It was what Mycroft had said, the way he'd taken Greg's hands so readily to calm him. As impossible as it seemed that Mycroft could like him back, it didn't stop Greg from further leaning in and ever so softly kissing him. Mycroft's on free hand was resting on Greg's cheek while Greg grounded himself at Mycroft's hips. Everything was so gentle, so loving, so warm, Greg couldn't help but press closer, as close to Mycroft's very self as possible. Everything was so brilliant and incredible and it was everything Greg had wanted for so long.

Tentatively, Greg touched Mycroft's lower lip with his tongue, requesting rather than demanding access to Mycroft's mouth and gaining it almost instantly along with a small gasp. Then Greg was lost to everything but this man who tasted so good until it dawned on him that they were still in the middle of a park. He nipped Mycroft's lip in farewell and drew away a little, opening his eyes.

Lestrade's was still caressing Mycroft's sides and now he watched the elder Holmes with slight trepidation. Greg's whole face was flushed and he was beaming despite the knowledge that now came a very important conversation.

Mycroft swallowed thickly, "That...was wonderful." he murmured.

Greg nodded and brushed his lips against Mycroft's cheek, "Very. Wouldn't mind doing that again some time if...if you wanted to." but of course Mycroft wouldn't want to, not with Greg of all people! Greg knew he wasn't unattractive but he was certainly nothing special and he knew Mycroft deserved far better than Greg ever could be.

"Gregory," Mycroft was smiling amusedly, "You never cease to surprise me and nothing can usually do that. How could it even cross your mind that there was even the slightest possibility of my not wanting to do that again? You are incredible, beautiful and I know we would be perfect together if you still want that too."

Wow. Mycroft Holmes had just kissed Greg and still wanted to do it again! Pancakes flipped less violently than Greg's stomach was, "So you want this too? You'd like there to be an us?"

Mycroft leant down a little and swiftly stole another kiss, this one more brief yet infinitely intense, before meeting Greg's eyes, "Does that answer your question sufficiently?" he moved until his lips were only a hair's breadth from Greg's ear, "If not, I am more than happy to elaborate." he whispered with more suggestion than ought to be legal laced into his tone.

"Maybe we should get back to one of our houses first." Greg twined his fingers with Mycroft's and led him, slightly urgently, on, "Preferably right now."

 

* * *

 

Lying on Mycroft's bed, holding that man in your arms whilst both of you are blissfully limp and sated was the single best feeling Lestrade's had ever encountered. They'd been wild yet gentle, urgent yet tender and within their need, both knew there lay something more. All of this had led to the point of Mycroft's collapse onto Greg, both men now peaceful and vulnerable in front of each other because it felt right.

"I can be better. You don't need to flatter me now, I know I was nothing short of abysmal. I would understand if you wanted to reconsider us."

Greg frowned, "You are incredible." he murmured a little hoarsely, "You do that again and I think my life would be perfect." he tightened his arms around Mycroft protectively and Mycroft hummed, nuzzling into Greg's torso, "You dare say anything like that again, I may have to make you forget everything. You can't be thinking you're rubbish when you can't even remember your own name..." he paused and tilted Mycroft's chin to face Greg, "I would never want to reconsider this. That was perfect, you are perfect and I don't want it ending any time soon."

Smiling warmly, Mycroft kissed Greg softly and then lay back down again, "Thank you. Although I very much doubt you could make me forget quite that much."

"Oh? Is that a challenge?" Greg grinned, "When I do it, you owe me a thousand kisses."

"I can manage more than that." Reluctantly, he forced himself to get up and then offered a hand to aid Greg out of bed as well, "I think a shower before lunch may be in order."

Greg took Mycroft's hand gladly and followed. He was aware they'd yet to really talk about anything and that what they were remained undecided but for the moment, that was all right. They would have that conversation whenever they liked - during lunch, later that day or maybe not until the next time they met up for a Sherlock update. It didn't matter. Right then, what mattered was Greg enjoying every second he had with Mycroft.


	10. One Year Later

"Come on, love! The first time we host anything together and you've spent more time on your suit than you have on the rest of the party!" Greg called from the kitchen.

Mycroft could hear his footsteps approaching and then caught sight of him entering their bedroom where Mycroft was, "Yes, yes. My apologies for withholding my appealing sense of festivities from you and keeping out of your way. Now, I just need the right tie." he'd gone through every tie he owned twice and had yet to settle on one. This night had to be perfect for Greg's sake.

Lestrade grinned and held up another tie that had been hidden behind his back, "How's this one? Bought it for you, I knew this would happen. Happy anniversary."

It was incredible. The perfect shade of red to compliment his teal shirt, "Gregory, I adore it. Thank you." Mycroft looped it around Greg's neck and used it to pull the man into a slow, tender kiss, "I love you more with each passing second."

Blushing faintly, Greg took the tie and began thing it around Mycroft's neck for him, "Love you too. I mean...I know it's a day early but still. Can't believe we'll have been together for a year tomorrow."

"Three hundred and sixty four days since our first kiss." Mycroft murmured, contemplating the idea happily, "There hasn't been a single moment which had such a profound and intrinsically wonderful impact on my life as our first kiss." he smiled a little nervously, always frightened of showing too much emotion, too much sentiment.

Nevertheless, Greg was suddenly clinging to Mycroft and nuzzling into him, "Neither can I. Other than maybe the day you told me you loved me for the first time."

Mycroft's heart swelled a little at the memory, "I remember. After our cursory Sherlock update in April." he smiled, "You drove us back home and put on a DVD."

"It was Lord of the Rings. I don't think I've ever been more comfy than I was then when we were curled up on the sofa like that." Greg's expression was as warm as the sunshine, "It finished and when I looked over, you were asleep."

Mycroft chuckled and drew away, holding Greg at arm's length, "And I woke up to this-" he pressed his lips to Greg's in reenactment of the moment.

Greg was blushing in the sweetest manner possible, "Then you said you loved me and I kissed you again."

"You told me you felt the same." never had Mycroft felt more relieved, "Then you kissed me...again."

Smirking, Greg tugged Mycroft closer by the hips, "Oh, we did more than kiss after that! One of our best nights, that was."

Mycroft nodded, "Definitely so." he would never be able to forget that night, the way they'd been so...magic. Somehow by the end of the time, Mycroft was literally seeing stars, "You are the best part of my life and if our relationship lasts forever, it won't be long enough. I adore you, Gregory."

Mycroft chose not to comment on the tears Greg was attempting to hide as he could feel his own stinging the back of his eyes.

"I love you too, Myc. So, so much." Greg hugged Mycroft tightly, only releasing the man when the doorbell signalled the arrival of their first guests.

 

* * *

 

The next morning found them waking, licked in a loosely-tangled embrace and slowly realising what day they'd just woken up to. One year on from their first kiss, the day began with another which was by no means their last.

 

**The End**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the tale for us. Hope you enjoyed it, I know I loved writing it :)

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is always great so all comments welcome! :)


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